Millennium Park is crowded in that specific way only tourist landmarks are.

The Bean reflects a warped version of the skyline—people clustered beneath it, phones raised, laughter echoing off the steel. Security stands off to the side, pretending not to watch while watching everything. Locals weave through the crowd with practiced annoyance.

A street performer is setting up nearby. A couple argues quietly over where to eat. Someone brushes past you without apologizing.

You’re standing just outside the densest part of the crowd.

What do you do?